Girls With Guns
by DizzyDrea
Summary: She wasn't a damsel in distress. And he liked girls with guns. Part 3 of Scenes from an Accidental Courtship.


Title: Girls With Guns  
>Author: DizzyDrea<br>Summary: She wasn't a damsel in distress. And he liked girls with guns.  
>Rating: T<br>Spoilers: Blye, K.  
>Author's Notes: I'm fairly certain that if you were watching NCIS: Los Angeles last Tuesday, you must have heard me shouting "Nell's got a gun!" about a dozen times. I don't think I've ever seen anything cooler on this show. Seriously. And, of course, Callen had something to say about it. Part of a series I'm now calling "Scenes From an Accidental Courtship." Follows '<em>Secret Santa<em>' and '_Who Watches the Watchers?_'.  
>Disclaimer: NCIS and NCIS: Los Angeles and all its particulars are the property of CBS, Paramount, Donald P. Bellisario, Belisarius Productions, Shane Brennan, Shane Brennan Productions, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.<p>

~o~

For my dad, who digs girls with guns.

~o~

The steady _crack, crack, crack_ of the gun split the air of the firing range, the scent of cordite hanging heavy in the air.

G Callen stood quietly, arms crossed, leaning back against the wall as he watched shell casings fly. Nell Jones was standing in the middle stall, steadily emptying her clip into the target downrange.

He couldn't say what had drawn him to the range, except that he'd always gone there when he needed to clear his head. It was calming, the steady beat of the bullets leaping from the gun. He could focus on just this one thing as he fired; shut out everything else and just become one with the weapon.

His eyes tracked down the range, and he watched as the bullets sliced into the target. She wasn't half bad. Maybe a little high, but her control was good. In the real world, her shots would hit their intended target; she'd survive the encounter. In the long run, that was all that mattered.

The slide locked as the last bullet was fired, and she lowered the gun, setting it on the shelf as she removed her hearing protection and set about reloading the clip. He lifted his own hearing protection from his head and sauntered over, leaning against the stall divider.

"You're not too bad," he said.

She glanced up, a small smile forming. "Thanks. I don't get to shoot that often, but I try to keep my skills up."

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

"Quantico," she said. She picked up the gun and slammed the magazine home, releasing the safety and pulling back the slide to chamber a round. "I went through the FBI's Tactical Training when I first joined NCIS. I thought it might help me be a better analyst if I understood field operations better."

Callen raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you," she said, smiling sweetly.

She picked up her hearing protection and fitted them over her ears as Callen did the same. He stepped back, hovering just beyond her left shoulder to stay out of the line of fire of the ejecting cartridges and waited. She glanced over her shoulder, and he nodded to let her know he was ready.

Squaring her shoulders, Nell sighted along the barrel and pulled the trigger several times in rapid succession. Her shots were again a bit high, but she seemed more than capable of handling the 9mm in her hands.

She lowered the gun, and he could see the frown forming on her face. He leaned forward, tapping her shoulder. She set the gun down on the shelf and pulled one ear of her hearing protectors away, letting it rest behind her ear so she could hear what he had to say.

Callen pulled his hearing protection off and hooked them over the top of the divider. "You're still a little high, there."

"Yeah," she said, sighing. "I've always had that problem. I don't know why."

"Want some pointers?"

She smiled. "From you? Of course."

He smiled back as he moved behind her. "I'm going to adjust your stance and your hold."

She nodded, and he proceeded to do just that, bending down to slide her feet just a few inches so they were shoulder width apart. Then, he rose and wrapped his arms around her as he adjusted her hands on the gun, giving her more support and the ability to keep the gun from rising so much as she fired.

Standing this close to her, he could smell her perfume—something floral, not too sweet—mixed with the cordite. It was intoxicating, and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to get his accelerating heart rate under control. Only it was the wrong move, because the deeper he breathed, the more of her that filled his nostrils.

He slid over, just a few inches, so that he was pressed up against her side, and noticed that her breathing had become shallower, her cheeks were now flushed. She looked up at him, and he raised an eyebrow. Her eyebrow rose in answer, drawing a lazy smile to his lips.

Interesting.

"Now, unlock your elbows. It'll give you more control as you continue to fire."

"Right," she said, but she didn't move.

"You think you're ready to try it again?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

They just stared at each other for the space of a few heartbeats, the air charged between them. Finally, Nell cleared her throat and returned her eyes to the target downrange.

"Yeah."

He stepped back, moving behind her as he retrieved his hearing protection from the divider. He settled her protection back over her ear, then put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a subtle squeeze to let her know he was ready.

He felt her take a deep breath, and then she was squeezing the trigger, pushing her back into fuller contact with his body. He braced his feet, giving her a solid wall to lean into if she needed it. He watched as her shots found the center of the target, a vast improvement from her earlier tries. When her gun was once again empty, she set it down on the shelf and lifted her hearing protection off her head, turning to beam at him.

"See?" he said, pulling his own ear protectors off. "Just a matter of the right stance."

He reached around her—leaning into her a bit just because he could—and flipped the switch to recall the target. Seconds later, the paper target arrived at the front of the lane, and he tugged it out of the clips to get a closer look.

He whistled appreciatively. He could see where her first shots had been higher than he'd thought, the gun jumping up and to the right with each shot. But after his adjustments, her shots had clustered near the center of the target. They were still dancing up and to the right, but for the most part her aim was worlds better than it had been.

"Wow," she said as she admired her work. "I've never been able to shoot that good."

He chuckled. "What did they teach you out there, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I learned how to load, strip and clean the gun. We worked on accuracy some, but this was tactical training for non-field personnel, so close was good enough."

"You want to try it again?" he asked.

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

He smiled at her enthusiasm. Retrieving a new target, he hooked it up and sent it downrange. When it had reached the end, he stepped back, put on his hearing protection and waited.

Nell smiled at him, then turned around and reloaded the gun. She settled her protectors over her ears, then lifted the gun and resumed her stance. Callen noticed that she took special care to replicate everything he'd shown her, from the hold on her gun to the distance between her feet. She took a few breaths, then raised her gun and fired several shots, paused, then fired a few more, until the slide locked, signaling the gun was empty.

She set it down and tugged off her hearing protection as she flipped the switch to retrieve the target. Callen set his own ear protectors aside and watched the target sail toward them, eyes going wide when he saw her results. If it were possible, she'd done even better the second time around. Her shots were clustered together, all of them falling inside the smallest circle on the target.

"Now I'm really impressed," he said appreciatively.

She smiled as she glanced back at him. "You're a good teacher."

"And clearly, you're a good student." He paused. "I was impressed with the way you handled your gun out there this week."

She blinked a few times, clearly caught off guard by his words. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "When Hetty suggested you be the one to bring Harris to the meet, I wasn't sure what to expect, but you handled that gun like a real pro."

She blushed, glancing away. He reached out and tucked a finger under her chin, tipping her head back so he could look into her eyes.

"What's that for?"

She shrugged. "It's just—nobody's ever said that to me before. Most people don't even know that I know how to handle a gun."

"You can handle a gun alright," he said forcefully. "I could tell you'd be able to hold your own if it came down to that. It made things easier for me, knowing that I didn't have to worry about you if someone decided to shoot back."

"You don't have to worry about me," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not a damsel in distress."

She cringed as the words left her lips, drawing a chuckle from him. "I never thought you were. I like girls with guns."

"You do?" she asked, eyes gone wide.

"I do," he said, smiling as he nodded. "I like you."

Her blush deepened and his smile grew. He'd learned one thing at least: she looked pretty when she blushed. He'd have to remember that; it was a good look on her, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks. He could feel the sparks growing between them as their eyes met and locked. He felt an overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss her, but he fought it. This wasn't the time or the place, and he was keenly aware of that fact. Besides, he had no idea what this was between them, and until he knew, he wasn't going to ruin it by doing something potentially stupid and unwelcome.

He took a subtle step back, shoving his hands into his pockets to help restrain himself, trying to ignore the slight disappointment fluttering in his chest.

"I should go," Nell said, glancing down at her feet.

"Yeah," Callen said, silently wishing they could stay this way for a while longer. He was enjoying this, but he knew the longer he stayed, the more chance there was that he'd do something he shouldn't.

She picked up her gun and ear protectors and made to walk past him. She paused long enough to push up on her tiptoes and brushed his cheek in a barely-there kiss.

"Thanks," she whispered into his ear, her breath ghosting over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

She must have known what her kiss would do to him, because when she pulled back, she was wearing a cheeky grin. He couldn't help the answering grin from crossing his face.

"You're welcome."

And then she was gone. He took what felt like his first deep breath in a long time, her scent still lingering in the air, filling his lungs with the memory of her. He shook his head. He had no idea what had just happened, but something significant had. But he wasn't in any rush to figure it out. He wanted to savor this sense of anticipation for a little while longer. There weren't many surprises in his life, and just this once he wanted to be surprised by Nell.

Hell, he already was.

~Finis


End file.
